


Aloe

by MissGillette



Series: Tilted [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Billy Hargrove, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, Knotting, Light Bondage, M/M, Omega Steve Harrington, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, Slurs, Spanking, Surprise Ending, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24556465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGillette/pseuds/MissGillette
Summary: Steve puts out a flyer for a pool boy. Billy answers the ad and gets a lot more than he'd anticipated.-“Move, I wanna swim.”Heat sinks into the center of Billy’s face as he grits his teeth and drops his hands from his hips to fist them. His sandals scrape on the cement surrounding the lip of the pool when he squares up.“You wanna try that again?” Billy murmurs low, lips barely moving.Head waggling and full of attitude, Steve just sneers, “Are those Dumbo ears of yours clogged? I said move. I. Wanna. Swim.”He doesn’t try to shove Billy again, but he does the foolish thing of trying to shoulder past the alpha. A mistake. Billy growls at him and knocks his shoulder into Steve’s as the omega tries to pass. It may bruise. Bare feet go slapping and almost tripping over the transition from cement to wood deck as Steve stumbles backwards. He gets his feet under him with the help of his arms windmilling, but Billy doesn’t back down. Stalking forward with his jaw tight, he marches and muscles Steve back, back, back into one of the big windows of the living room. Into the shade. No one can see them.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Tilted [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718029
Comments: 15
Kudos: 374





	Aloe

**Author's Note:**

> Billy's a Grade A asshole in this fic. No soft Billy here lol. Steve isn't much better. Think bratty, rich-bitch season one Steve. The "unsafe sex" tag is for Billy not practicing safe, sane, consensual sex (minus the consensual part, you'll see). This is fiction and not meant to be a representation of BDSM, since some people need to be told that. Doctors don't learn medicine watching Grey's Anatomy, don't learn BDM etiquette through fanfiction lol. If you're reading this and think it should have a dubious consent tag, just wait until the end. You'll see.

The advert at the community center for a ‘pool boy’ had been misleading. And Billy should have declined to take the job once he showed up at the sprawling, oversized Harrington house to meet Steve in person. To discuss what the job entailed, how much it paid, etcetera. Really, the omega barely older than him holding what could hardly be called an interview should have been the biggest red flag that sent Billy spinning on his heels back to the Camaro parked in the circle driveway.

Cocky, entitled omega lounging by the pool, forcing Billy to walk around the house when the doorbell had proved useless. Looking like something out of a Sears Roebuck catalogue in a tiny bathing suit and his skin all out, sunglasses mocking when he refused to take them off. Refused to shake Billy’s hand, too, when the alpha agreed against every instinct in him to take the job. Three days a week. Tend to the pool. Mow the lawns. Fix anything around the house he could. ‘Pool boy’ in-fucking-deed.

And that’s how Billy finds himself under the scorching sun on this Wednesday, measuring chlorine levels and finding them fine like Monday. Coming here three times a week is overkill. The pool and other care around the Harrington house needs attention maybe once a week. He’s only here for a few hours at a time. Most of them spent with either the whiney omega trailing him from task to task or lounging in a chair on the deck with, again, his skin out. Today is especially challenging for Billy. He’s beginning to think he knows why Steve had requested an alpha in the advert. Him sunning himself face down, ass bare, is a rather loud clue.

It’s not the first time Steve has been so… obvious. About his intentions. Billy won’t fool himself into thinking this has anything to do with him as a person. No, no, that’s not Steve’s angle at all. No, any alpha could have showed up on that Friday two weeks ago, and Steve would have been rude and bossy and bratty to them too. And then offered them the job with his plush, bottom lip in his teeth. Anticipation. Billy was just perhaps the first alpha stupid enough to reply. The whole town knows Steve Harrington. Pretty boy, shy when it suits him and a fucking terror otherwise. He’d been a fool to tangle with this little pistol.

Can he ever resist an omega, no matter how poorly trained or rude? It’s slim pickings here. Steve is the only omega in town besides one of the Byers boys—Billy can’t remember faces or first names, deleted all that shit the moment the final bell of his senior year rang back in June. Steve’s senior year, too. This is the last summer of the spring of their lives. They’re adults now, and Billy still isn’t sure what he’s meant to do with his life past this point. Staring at pert, red cheeks burning under the sun will do for now.

“Hey,” he grumbles, kicking the deck chair Steve dozes in. “Wake up, princess, your ass is frying.”

Every day Billy is here, Steve is outside soaking up sun. All his efforts of oiling himself and turning front to back, back to front have been in vain, though. He never tans, only burns. And he’s insufferable when the burn settles in the next day on top of older exposure. Constantly huffing and whining when he moves the wrong way, when he brushes against something in his clumsy antics. Despite that, Steve doesn’t stop. If Billy is outside, so is he. This is just the first time Steve has splayed out naked. Not that Billy can see anything besides the omega’s ass. Not that he’s complaining. It’s a nice ass, he’s not fucking blind. 

When Steve just grunts, though, Billy leans his foot on the chair between Steve’s shins and nudges it again and again across the deck. Just to piss Steve off and bother him, hopefully irritate the angry red all over his chest and belly. It must work, because Steve rears up with his eyes squinting and glaring, snarl just under that.

“What’s your problem, man? Buzz off, will you?”

Shapely eyebrows flick high on Billy’s forehead as he meets that challenging stare second for second.

“Excuse you?”

Steve scoffs at him and sits up proper, mindless to his nudity. Or perhaps completely aware of it as he steals glances up and down Billy from the top of his vision. Not even bothering to lift his head to do it, all coy like.

“I said buzz off, can’t you see I’m trying to tan here? You’re blocking the light.”

“Right,” Billy drawls long and heavy, hands on his hips. He pointedly does not return Steve’s ogling. “Some tan you got going here, Rudolph.”

Another scoff and then a bratty, “Fuck you.” He stumbles to rise and stand, wincing as his irritated skin protests, and then shoves a hand at Billy’s shoulder. The alpha doesn’t budge. “Move, I wanna swim.”

Heat sinks into the center of Billy’s face as he grits his teeth and drops his hands from his hips to fist them. His sandals scrape on the cement surrounding the lip of the pool when he squares up.

“You wanna try that again?” Billy murmurs low, lips barely moving.

Head waggling and full of attitude, Steve just sneers, “Are those Dumbo ears of yours clogged? I said move. I. Wanna. Swim.”

He doesn’t try to shove Billy again, but he does the foolish thing of trying to shoulder past the alpha. A mistake. Billy growls at him and knocks his shoulder into Steve’s as the omega tries to pass. It may bruise. Bare feet go slapping and almost tripping over the transition from cement to wood deck as Steve stumbles backwards. He gets his feet under him with the help of his arms windmilling, but Billy doesn’t back down. Stalking forward with his jaw tight, he marches and muscles Steve back, back, back into one of the big windows of the living room. Into the shade. No one can see them.

The window must be cool on Steve’s burn. Over a red shoulder that cowers a bit, Billy witnesses the anger twisting his face in the glass. He smooths it out before boxing Steve in with his right hand slapped to the window. Plenty of room to escape if Steve wants to. But he won’t, not with how he scrunches down to make himself smaller than Billy and stares up with huge eyes. Like he wants to be here under the warmth and weight of an alpha’s power. Stronger than him.

Nostrils flaring slightly on his next, calm inhale, Billy says just as lowly as before, “Let’s get one thing straight, you spoiled brat.” He snaps his teeth over the T in brat and relishes Steve’s shudder against the house. “You don’t talk to me like that.”

Steve’s cherry lips part in the beginning of some rebellion, eyebrows already pinched together in the middle. His own face still a sheet of steel, Billy’s left hand snatches Steve’s chin and shakes him for good measure. Billy holds him there and forces Steve to look at him, squeezes bone under skin when Steve dares to disobey him.

Slow and again, “Listen very carefully to me, because I’m only going to say this once. Are you listening?”

Steve’s snarl is nowhere to be seen. He’s flush to his house, hands splayed at his hips to cling to the window. He swallows hard with his throat clicking each time and nods when he can’t form words.

“You. Don’t. Talk to me like that.” Billy nods his head around the backyard. “Your little gaggle of alpha stooges who worship the ground you walk on are weak-scented hicks, just like you. So you go right on and treat them however you want, princess.”

The dips in Steve’s collarbones and throat reek with a little bit of fear. The potent interest edging into arousal almost drowns it out, but Billy won’t dwell on that. He knows this type of omega well. It’s maybe why Steve hasn’t screamed for Billy to get off him and to never come back, that he’s calling the police. It’s maybe why this same scent choked the air between them when Steve told him when he expects Billy to be here and what he expects Billy to do around the house. Billy could probably do anything to him right now, Steve naked against him, and Steve would let him. Wants him to if the way a pink tongue sneaks out to lick his lips means anything. If the way Steve’s lashes fight a flutter means anything.

“Me, though?” He throws Steve’s head away from him like it’s trash. But he leans closer until he sees himself in the shine of Steve’s huge eyes. Voice lower still and almost a growl instead of language, Billy adds, “I’m not like them. And you will respect me. Do we understand each other?”

Doe eyes finally drift gently shut. Steve’s whole body relaxes between Billy’s and the house. He even tilts his head up a bit. Like Billy will kiss him. Billy holds back a snort, entirely sure of Steve’s game now, and then rocks back on his heels. Steve stays soft and ready like that, unaware as Billy wanders back to the water kit he’d abandoned. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation from the omega. They’re straight, now. Steve knows he can’t boss Billy around like his stooges, that Billy will absolutely put him in his place. He’ll probably pout about it now and whine even more. Maybe tell Billy to not come back, which is whatever. It’s a simple gig between his days at the community pool when he has to split shifts with four other lifeguards. He’ll just find some old lady around town who needs her lawn mowed and he’ll be set again.

Steve eventually collects himself off the side of his house and goes for that swim he’d mentioned. Everything is clean and squared away with the water, so Billy says nothing while drying the kit for the next time he has to measure chlorine, pH, all that shit. If he cared even a little bit, he would try to convince every private pool owner in Hawkins to convert to saltwater pools. But he doesn’t care, hopes all this shit is built on a hell hole or cursed native land or something and their houses all rot into the ground.  _ Poltergeist _ is a funny film, he thinks.

When Billy slips out of the shed where the pool supplies are stored, he finds Steve casually hugging the lip. Watching him with burned arms crossed, chin hooked carefully over a forearm. Billy flicks an eyebrow up at him and then allows a smirk to melt across his face when Steve perks up and turns his head. Shy now. Interesting. Mostly because Billy had expected Steve to wiggle and twist against him even more. He is a brat, after all. Billy didn’t expect Steve to be so… immediately subdued. Very interesting.

Billy approaches with his hands relaxed at his sides, face blank again, and Steve glances up muscle and gold, red trunks, to the alpha’s face. Only briefly, though, before amber eyes dart away again.

“Um…” Steve does squirm now, and Billy eats it up. “I… Sorry. I guess.”

Sorry for throwing his attitude around when he should be respectful towards an alpha like him. Billy doesn’t need it dragged out, though. It’s fine.

“Work on your manners and you wouldn’t have to be sorry,” he points out casually. 

Cherry lips purse and pucker at that, fighting the gut instinct to rebel and snap. Billy’s authority is like that of an adult, though, not these peacocking teenagers Steve surrounds himself with. All playing like they have any idea what to do with Steve or themselves. Billy is different, and Steve has known that since they first met, is maybe the only alpha ever who didn’t immediately bow to Steve to lavish him with favor and attention. Billy is just what all that attitude and entitlement needs, really. A firm hand to tell him how things actually are, that Steve can’t get his way every time.

“Yea, okay,” Steve says with an edge of attitude. He cools it when Billy stares at him, though, and he asks softly, “What are you doing later? Like when you leave?”

That’s probably the last thing Billy expects to hear, and so he just blinks at Steve for a spell. Until the omega’s sunburn across his cheeks turns that much darker. Embarrassed.

“Well? Are you gonna answer or just stand there staring at me?”

Bewildered and shaking his head, Billy grabs himself by the hips and drawls, “You really don’t know when to stop putting your foot in your mouth.” He huffs a laugh, looks around, and then adds, “Probably go home and wash my car. Why?”

A tiny shrug from Steve, still not looking at him, and Steve mumbles sideways, “Do you wanna like… go see a movie or something?”

Again, it’s not even on the list Billy had in mind of things Steve would say. He’s better about containing his wild bewilderment this time.

“… Why?”

Steve shrugs that much harder, throws his hands up all exasperated and grumbles, “Cuz there’s some good ones playing, and Tommy and Carol are out of town all week and Nancy has a summer job and I don’t like going alone, so like do you wanna go with me or not? You don’t have to be a jerk about it, you can just say no.”

When Billy doesn’t immediately reply, trying hard not to grin like the cat who’s caught the mouse, Steve finally whips his head around to glare up at the alpha. It’s not the easiest thing to do with the sun shining behind Billy and casting him in heavenly light. Again, Steve’s sunburn turns darker across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“You are just a brat,” Billy says lowly, mostly to himself. He shakes his head again with a lazy grin unfurling nice and slow like a frond. “You really wanna see a movie that bad that you’d go with me, huh? What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Steve mumbles with a pout. “I just don’t like going alone, it’s weird.”

Billy only ever sees movies with people their age if he wants to get frisky in public. A little risk to get the pheromones pumping, blood rushing as he teases just on the edge of obscene. Although there had been that time back in California where he may or may not have fingered a pretty omega in the back row of a theater before fucking him in the bathroom…

Billy commits to the idea before he can talk himself out of it. A few hours in the dark and close with this interesting omega. Anything could happen.

“Fine, but you’re not making me sit through that Breakfast Club bullshit.”

Luckily, Billy has a change of clothes in his car—just jeans and a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. It’s easy to just come over here in swim trunks if he only has pool duties. Mowing the giant yards, even on a riding lawnmower, is more of a jeans and t-shirts thing. Tiny cuts from grass flying or brushing against his shins aren’t exactly his favorite sensations. He needs a shower, though, and helps himself to the en suite in the master bedroom while Steve cleans up in the one across from his room. It gives time for Billy to center himself. Remind himself that this isn’t real, that Steve is just hungry for attention. He’d jump on any knot that popped for him. Billy just wouldn’t mind ruining Steve and making a mess out of the brat. He wouldn’t say no. 

They agree to disagree on some kid-adventure movie called  _ The Goonies _ whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Heat shimmers off every surface outside, and it feels like the whole town has split between cramming themselves into the community pool—rest in peace, Heather—or into any available theater seat. Billy has to bare his teeth and puff up his chest to get some shitty kids to cluster together, freeing two seats next to each other for them. It doesn’t escape Billy’s notice how the omega practically on his arm turns pleased and sweet when they sit down. Even more so when Steve shoves the armrest between them up, welcoming himself to Billy’s right side. Very interesting indeed.

Steve is a handsy omega. Not rare, just something Billy hadn’t expected. People are always touching Steve. His alpha stooges Tommy H and Carol hanging all over him. Petting his hair and glued to him whenever they stalk the halls like a trio of popular girls. The alpha Steve fools around with on occasion, too, that Wheeler girl. She’s a damn trip, quick to glare and try to out-posture Billy whenever their paths cross but just as quick to step back the moment he rises to her challenge. What sort of alpha is that?

Billy snorts and rolls his eyes as a thunderstorm flashes on screen, four boys squealing in prepubescence as they argue over something. Billy isn’t truly following, too busy trying to eat popcorn that Steve insists on holding in his lap. And he keeps bumping into the omega’s oily fingers every damn time. The theater is too crowded for them to do anything. Billy isn’t exactly keen on a real audience when he’s feeling risky. Just the idea of an audience, the idea of getting caught. Plus they’re stuck next to a bunch of little squirts who keep whispering amongst each other. One of the four pairs of eyes would surely see them. It doesn’t stop Steve, though.

Not coy or shy about it, warm brown watches Billy sideways as Steve licks salt and butter from his long fingers. He doesn’t have to make a show of it but lavishes attention to the tip of each finger, slotting the first two past his lips when their eyes meet. Steve pays no mind to the sea of bodies around them, the movie. His crosshairs are on Billy. Look at me, those glowing eyes demand, already half lidded under Billy’s attention. Aren’t I bad for doing this in public? Are you going to stop me? I could do worse, you’ll see…

Billy flinches in his seat when Steve grabs for his wrist. Steve’s fingers are wet against Billy’s pulse. Upper lip twitching into a warning, Billy leans closer despite them being in the back row, no one behind to see them. Of course he could rip his hand out of Steve’s grasp, could growl a command the omega would be helpless to follow. Steve would probably melt into a mewling puddle if Billy commanded him. It’s almost worth the scene it would cause, but again, Billy doesn’t want an actual audience if he’s going to play games with Steve. Because that’s all this is: a game. Especially when Steve lowers his eyes all shy while giving kitten licks to the tips of Billy’s rough fingers. Steve even leans closer to meet him, sort of hunching a shoulder to block the kids to Steve’s right from seeing.

Hissing as quietly as possible, Billy growls, “Steve,” in warning.

Amber eyes flick back up to him through the tops of Steve’s vision. Not to be outdone, Steve gives a tiny hum while sealing his lips around the tip of Billy’s middle finger. Billy thinks he can feel his pulse under the silver of his ring. Maybe Steve can too with cherry lips plush around the first knuckle, sucking silently all while blinking slow and soft over at Billy. Biting the inside of his cheek, Billy imagines all sorts of gruesome and terrible things to stop his neck from going musky thick with arousal. Fucking brazen omega, doing this in public when he knows Billy can’t do anything about it. He ought to yank Steve over his knee sometime and teach the little tart a lesson. 

It’s a thought he savors even when Steve relents. When Steve lets him go, it’s with his pretty lips parted so Billy can see the wet inside him, shiny saliva. His tongue flicks out for one more swipe of the pad of Billy’s fingertip. And then Steve is all sweet smiles, a giggle, and he hops to face the screen once more. Billy stares with his teeth tight behind his lips and wishes he were holding the popcorn. The movie is long enough to where he won’t need it to save face when they walk out. He won’t be hard by then. Hopefully.

Steve wiggling into his side and leaning on him, rubbing his scent into Billy, dashes that hope. Steve huffs and sighs with each wiggle like he can’t find a comfortable spot. Billy throws an irritated look to the ceiling, promises he will get himself banned from this theater forever if Steve climbs in his lap. He thinks that’s what the omega intends with Steve’s left thigh sort of trying to hike up on top of his. Billy slaps his right hand down to Steve’s thigh and digs fingers into his shorts. He means to give the omega a lick of pain, to make him stop. Steve just sucks in a loud breath and covers Billy’s hand with his. And drags the alpha’s palm higher, farther over until Billy’s fingers brush over the inseam of Steve’s shorts. 

Lips to Steve’s ears and teased hair, Billy hisses, “What the fuck are you doing?”

And Steve has the absolute gall to shush him. 

“Don’t talk during the movie, Billy, we’ll get in trouble.”

Oh trouble huh? Billy can do trouble. He hops that much closer to the omega. He doesn’t care how uncomfortable it is to wedge half his ass into the crack between seats. They’re sandwiched all along their sides now, but that doesn’t stop Steve from wiggling. Billy squeezes the omega’s thigh harder to stop him. Steve’s huff plays with the curl perpetually bouncing on Billy’s forehead. Not to be outdone, Billy just shakes his hand free from under Steve’s, although not without the omega pawing at him and whining quietly. 

Billy is back in a second, though. He only lifts up on Steve’s thigh to settle his hand lower right where Steve’s shorts hem above his knee. Billy is all eyes on the screen, watching kids trapeze through an underground tunnel and leave absolute mayhem behind them. So he doesn’t see Steve’s expression when the omega gasps as Billy slides his hand up, up, up. Skin on skin as Steve’s shorts just bunch in front of Billy’s palm and wrist. Billy’s fingers find downy leg hair on Steve’s inner thigh, gather some strands, and give them a vicious yank. 

Popcorn goes flying as Steve bucks out of his seat, slim hips popping. His high yelp like a dog isn’t too bad either. Smirk smug and oozing superiority, Billy casually takes his hand back while everyone glares at Steve for the buttery shower. Billy already stands when irritated voices ring out from the rows in front of them. Steve throws him a desperate, pleading look for help. But Billy just shrugs and sort of bounces with every step down to the bottom floor of the rows, thumbs in his pockets and grin slick on his face as he leaves Steve to the mess. He counts in his head—three, two, one—and isn’t surprised at all when sneakers squeak on the concrete floor as Steve scrambles after him. Billy nudges the theater door open with a finger, doesn’t hold it for Steve, and barks a laugh when the door explodes open as Steve barrels through it.

“What the hell was that, man?!” Steve’s voice cracks a little as he charges up to Billy’s back, pink to his hairline. Billy glances down to see the left leg of Steve’s shorts still all scrunched up near his groin. Pale thigh and beauty marks all on display. Good, it’s what he deserves. “You know like the whole town was in there and saw me make a complete jackass of myself, right?”

“Actually, it would be impossible to fit the whole town in there,” Billy musses as he heads to the bathroom to wash his hands. No sense in getting the steering wheel of the Camaro greasy. He’d driven them here. “So you’re exaggerating just a lot. But you’re dead on about the jackass part.”

Steve’s irritated growl bounces off the white walls, mixes with the loud smells in here. Cleaning products trying to cover up piss. Billy wrinkles his nose and washes his hands despite the unpleasantness. Steve is in the way of the paper towels when Billy shuffles over to them. A nod of the alpha’s head, you’re in the way, does nothing. Steve crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Billy. Shrugging, Billy yanks Steve’s shirt out of his shorts, ignores the omega’s indignant squawk, and just dries his hands on Steve’s polo. Slim hands try to smack his away, but Billy needs only to slap one square hand in the center of Steve’s chest to mush him back. Steve goes tripping away from him and catches himself on the trash bin with a disgusted grimace.

“Keep your hands to yourself like a good boy, now, don’t need to make two scenes in one day, yea?” Billy eyes the red building in Steve’s cheeks. “I have half a mind to bend you over my knee in front of everyone, so don’t tempt me.”

He leaves it at that. But Steve isn’t done, always needs the last word like the brat he is. Billy catches his flash of teeth, little omega fangs poking out. And then a hand swipes at his back. It does nothing through Billy’s black t-shirt—Steve’s nails just long enough to bite, but Billy’s skin is rather thick. It plucks a string in Billy, though. One that sends his blood rushing, his heart jumping from calm to racing in a second. So fast he could wind himself, but instead turns around with a snarl.

Billy is in Steve’s face in that same second. Steve’s pink tantrum drains into paper white as the alpha bears down on him with plenty of fury. Backpedalling, Steve’s sneakers squeak on the tile floor. Air punches out of Steve when he hits a wall. Sunburn forgotten and now punishing Steve all on its own, Steve winces and hisses. He’s quick to hunch down, though, with Billy nearly pressed belly to belly with him, upper lip and nose twisted.

“Did you really just take a swing at me?”

Billy doesn’t give a flying shit if someone walks in here. If someone sees him bullying Steve Harrington, Golden Boy, precious omega who can do no wrong. In fact, let someone see. They’d probably thank him for getting a firm hand on this wild animal. Much like earlier in Steve’s backyard, Billy cages the omega in. Only this time, both hands slap to the tiles on either side of Steve’s head. It’ll take a scrap for Steve to get free. And Billy knows the odds are in his favor. Unless Steve takes a cheap shot.

Steve’s shoulders hunch up near his ears despite his clear discomfort. Not from Billy’s closeness, no, it’s the sunburn. It hadn’t been obvious on his pretty face in the dark theater. But now that they’re under the bleaching fluorescents of the bathroom, and with Steve’s natural color flushed away, the burn is splotchy and ugly. Deepens when Billy slots a knee between Steve’s, hoping to deter him from doing anything foolish.

“What?” Billy huffs out, leaning closer. “Got nothing to say now, huh? Not gonna write some more checks with that mouth the rest of you can’t cash?”

Steve’s hot mouth fights with his instincts to just be quiet and small until the confrontation is over. It’s got nothing to do with Steve’s status, either. Billy had watched through their whole senior year together, their only year together in school, as Steve cowed under such authority. Teachers, Coach, the chief of police when Steve got caught with beer or pot. He always scrunches himself up to be smaller, always zips his lip and just takes whatever abuse people throw at him. Not with Billy, it seems. Not this time, because Steve’s lips part over his tight teeth, and Billy feels the words in his stomach before Steve even spits them.

“F-fuck you, man, I could hold my own against you just f—!”

Billy doesn’t give him the satisfaction. Face carefully blank, ice building up in his eyes, Billy’s left hand strikes like a viper for the omega’s tense throat. Short fingers instantly curl into the sides of that pale neck, pinching down, down, down until Steve’s pulse flails like a panicked mouse. The rest of Steve panics and scrambles, too, one hand flying up to scratch at Billy’s wrist while the other tangles in the front of Billy’s shirt. Billy just leans that much closer, his own fangs poking over his lower lip, and he squeezes. Hard. Until even Steve’s sunburn pales and he goes stone still.

“You must have a memory problem or something,” Billy says casually, like he doesn’t have Steve pinned to the wall with a hand on his throat. “Because I remember distinctly, barely an hour ago, us having a conversation about respect. And you”—he lightens the pressure on Steve’s windpipe, gifts the omega a gasped breath, and then cuts that precious air off again—“are being. Extremely. Disrespectful right now. Do you need a refresher, Steve? All you had to do was ask.”

A whine tickles Billy’s palm. Steve paws gently at him, sneakers slipping as he wiggles. Steve shakes his head as best he can with Billy’s thick fingers denting his skin. Bruises won’t form, but the idea has merit. This hot and cold shit Steve has done all day is tiring, and Billy doesn’t have a taste for it anymore. He didn’t care earlier if Steve told him to not come back, and now he cares even less. Games are fun when the other person plays fair. This is just tedious, and if Billy wants a feisty omega to pop his knot in, he can find one. Steve isn’t charming in the least when he rebels like a spoiled child. 

Billy once more lightens the pressure, just blankets Steve’s panting throat with his hand, and repeats himself, “So. Do you need a refresher? Or are we good?”

Steve’s throat rolls under Billy’s hand when he swallows. Billy prefers Steve’s fluttering pulse to that, although both stroke the pleasure simmering in him. Steve’s attitude may not be charming, but his nervous submission is delicious to behold. He knows he’s fucked up. And he’ll either play cool from now on or just call it quits. It depends entirely on if he wants to keep playing or not. Billy suspects—does not hope, hope is useless to him—that Steve will straighten himself out, now. For real this time. Because Billy will walk away, and Steve knows it. And some part of Steve likes the pushback, likes that Billy drew a line in the sand and fucking defends that line whenever Steve steps even a toe over it. Billy reads it all plainly as Steve relaxes in his hand and nods with what little leeway Billy permits him.

“N-no, no, I’m good,” he rasps against Billy’s palm. He still paws gently at the alpha. Appeasement. 

Billy hums, cocks his head the other way, and murmurs, “You really should work on those manners. Let’s practice right now. Apologize for that little swing you took. And make it good, yea pretty boy?”

That brings back some of Steve’s natural color. That and a bit more. Billy has yet to meet an omega his voice couldn’t undo with a little praise. Works like a charm even on fussy brats like Steve.

“I, um, I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Sorry you hit who?”

Steve squirms more against the wall, squeezes Billy’s wrist like Billy will relent. Billy squeezes him back in kind and eats up the way Steve strains, tilts his chin up to bare his neck. Perfect.

“Come on, man, you’re really gonna—”

Billy’s thumb tightens just enough, pressing into skin and sinew, to cut Steve’s attitude off. He holds it for as long as it takes for Steve’s pleading eyes to start swimming. And then he lets go.

Shivering with a whimper, much better behavior in Billy’s opinion, Steve offers with his slim shoulders hunched, “I’m sorry… that I hit you, alpha. I won’t do it again.”

Billy actually gifts Steve a modicum of a smile, just at the corners of his mouth. It even reaches his eyes. But only just.

“That’s a good start. Now, apologize for acting up in the theater. We’re missing the rest of the movie because of you and that little stunt you pulled.”

Steve pouts.

“But I’m not sorry for that.”

That much is fucking obvious, and Billy rolls his eyes.

“There’s a time and place to toe the line like that, and a packed theater isn’t it, Steve. Apologize for ruining the movie or I’m leaving and you can walk home. And clean your own fucking pool while you’re at it. Manual labor builds character.”

That gets Steve startling under Billy’s hand, frantic and shaking his head. Gotcha. Billy is rather pleased with himself. He always could read desire in people; even when they try to hide or subvert it like Steve for some reason. If pressed, Steve would deny it hotly. How badly he wants Billy, wants an alpha to take him down, hold him down, and give him that tough loving he needs. Steve just needs a firm hand to redirect all that attitude into something constructive. If only he would play the game. Billy is down for that. 

“No I, okay, okay, I’m sorry I spilled popcorn on everybody. I didn’t mean to, your hand—”

“Own your mistake, princess, don’t go blaming other people.” Billy lifts his chin, breathes on Steve’s chewed lips as the omega darts glances up and away, meeting Billy’s despite his squirming. “You were the one who started it. Somebody could have seen you going to town sucking my fingers like some knot-hungry bitch.”

Steve grits his teeth at that, but says nothing. Just peeking out of the collar of his ruffled polo, sweetness oozes. Interesting. 

Billy presses on with his voice lower like at the pool earlier, “What would they say about that, huh? Steve Harrington throwing himself at me. They’d see right through your good boy bullshit. They’d see you for the whore you are, you know.” He presses forward until Steve’s trembling thighs squeeze around his slotted between them. Head tilted just so, gaze heavy on the omega’s face, Billy purrs, “What do you think about that, huh? The whole town thinking I run you ragged and have you hanging off my knot every night. Almost sounds tempting.”

Billy’s palm catches a new sound out of Steve. Pleading and desperate. A trill or a chirp, too choked to tell for certain. His stomach drops and flips as he watches amber eyes flutter wet when the light catches them. Carefully, so carefully, Steve arches his head back against the wall and bares his throat under Billy’s hand. Steve’s fingers at Billy’s wrist and t-shirt drop away, dead weight. He’s completely open and relaxed, only the alpha’s bulk keeping him upright. Steve finds the will to crack open melty eyes and stare slightly up at Billy. Everything freezes as he watches cherry lips mouth the word, ‘Please.’

The bathroom door swings open and cracks off the wall, bouncing back to someone shuffling in. Swift and smooth, Billy peels himself away like he’d never flattened Steve with a hand on his throat. He makes for the door, shouldering his way past meek betas. Silence lingers at his back. Maybe they stare at Steve plastered to the far side of the bathroom. Maybe they read the atmosphere and sense what’d gone on, what they interrupted. Billy was done playing with Steve anyway, lest the omega plunge to his bare knees and get grabby with Billy’s belt and jeans. It’s not an unpleasant thought, and Billy adjusts himself against his zipper when the coast is clear. His smirk is for himself when shoes scuttle behind him and Steve trails him a few steps. Good. Let the omega learn his place in Billy’s world. 

Much like overpowering Steve earlier, the omega is subdued and respectful. Not quite cowed, because that hungry gaze roams all over Billy on the ride back. From the cigarette in Billy’s left hand casual at the open window, all down the alpha’s chest tight under his t-shirt, and farther down. The weight of the omega’s stare between his legs is practically corporeal. Billy’s right hand at the wheel tightens as he considers his options. He could easily toss Steve over his shoulder, carry the brat to the nearest horizontal surface, and fuck him like he needs it. Because that’s what a fussy omega like Steve needs. He needs a firm hand constantly, acts out because every alpha lets him walk all over them. But he needs a good fucking, a good knotting to really work that pent up energy that makes him act out.

Still, Billy hesitates. Which is frustrating and makes him frown around the cigarette on his lip. Why the hesitation? Why not dive into Steve with wild abandon and give into what they both want? Billy spares the quiet omega a glance, isn’t at all surprised when blue meets amber. Steve perks right up out of his slouch, chest puffing out slightly. Displaying. Even his thighs fall open a little, although the legs of his shorts are too long to see anything good. And Steve has since fixed the left one Billy shoved up. Steve has thrown the gloves off, now, is overt in his desires to the point of lewdness. At the Camaro’s steering wheel, Billy rubs the fingers that had been in that mouth together. Like he can still feel it. 

His hesitation is still a heavy stone rolling around in his stomach when he roars down the circle drive of the Harrington house. They rock forward in their seats when Billy brakes too hard. He doesn’t go to put the car in park or get out. They sit there with the humid, summer heat creeping in. Without a breeze rolling through the open windows, it suffocates. Steve’s house is cool inside. Will be cooler than Billy’s back on Cherry Street without even a window unit to take the edge off. He’ll end up lying sweaty and naked in his bed with a fan on and a hand towel of ice drifting up and down honey skin. He shuffles in the seat just thinking about it. Maybe he’ll jerk off, fuck it. 

Steve clears his throat quiet and soft. Timid. Billy doesn’t look at him, just stares straight ahead with sunglasses tinting the lawn. It’s starting to fry under all this sun without rain. Less to cut if the shit won’t grow. Good. 

Again, Steve clears his throat. 

“What?” Billy drawls. “Use your words, pretty boy, it’s not that hard.”

Cloth on his leather seats rasps and whines. Squirming. Steve spreads the sweetness of his interest into the leather. It will linger, and Billy knows he’ll leave the windows all the way down to air it out when he gets home. 

“My um-my sunburn is pretty bad on my back. I think I burned my thighs, too, cuz it hurts a lot to sit…”

“That would be your bright red ass, you monkey,” Billy sneers. “I warned you.”

Steve huffs, and Billy watches his whole body lift up and down with it. The omega crosses his arms over his chest for good measure. The attitude has no staying power, though, and Steve drops his hands just as quickly to his lap to play with his fingers, card them through his hair a few times when that isn’t enough. 

Sighing and flinging his head into the seat, Billy groans, “What the fuck do you want? Stop pussyfooting around and just say it!”

Billy rolls his head to finally give Steve his attention. He finds a pout waiting for him. Steve probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it. 

“My sunburn hurts real bad,” he says so pitifully. “Will you come in and help put aloe on me? I can’t get my back all by myself.”

The temptation exists, of course, to tell Steve to get the fuck out of his car, sunburn be damned. It’s what the spoiled brat deserves, flaunting all that skin in the summer sun all to try and entice Billy. Billy can’t blame Steve, though. When Billy sees something he wants, he takes it. Omegas are no different, even if TV and movies would have everyone think otherwise. Persistent, amorous omegas are treated as harlots, loose with their affections and thighs open to all. Billy doesn’t give a shit about that. If the sex is good, let it ride. So he growls, rolls his eyes, and then nearly breaks the gearshift when he slams it into park.

He’s already swinging himself up and out of the car when he barks, “Fine, make it quick.”

Billy closes the door before Steve gets anything out. Marching for the house, Billy leaves the omega behind to scramble out of the Camaro by himself. The house is locked, so he has to wait for Steve anyway. Excitement sort of winding him up—anything could happen since he’s agreed to step inside—he stands entirely too close to Steve when the omega bounds up like a puppy and drops his keys while fighting with the lock. Billy sends his eyes skyward in a heavy roll. Like the pup never had an alpha’s attention before, like if they get up to anything this will be his first knot. Billy doubts that.

Yes, Steve is loose with his affections to his little gang—Tommy H, Carol, and the one he’s fucking, whatever her name is. Billy has witnessed Steve turn Bambi eyes on other alphas, too, especially when Steve wants something. That and Steve is so comfortable using said tricks, even dirty ones like overpowering an alpha’s reason with his cloying scent. Steve had tried it on him, damn it, when Steve wanted to drink but knew he couldn’t pass himself off as old enough. And the clerk who took his bribes got caught and fired. But Billy would buy him beer, right? Wrong. Billy even laughed in his face before walking away, leaving the Harrington house with his chores all done.

Breathing only a little heavy, Steve is wide, excited eyes and smiles when he pants, “I’ll-I’ll go get the aloe.”

Implying he will return. Even though he makes no direct mention of it as sneakers go pounding up the carpeted stairs. That leaves Billy alone in the foyer. Humming, he considers the lock. There’s no point in it if Steve is going to come back down and, say, sit at the kitchen table with his back exposed. That’s not an invitation for debauchery. So Billy loiters there with his thumbs in his pockets. Silence drags on upstairs, so impatience drives Billy to tap his boot on the floor. Shooting a glare up to the second floor, Billy’s hands itch to just throw the front door open and leave. Promise of touching all that soft skin be damned, his time is valuable. Billy’s teeth grind together just as a little voice rings out. 

“Billy?”

Steve so rarely actually says his name. It’s either ‘hey’ or ‘you’ or something equally as bossy and rude. Growling through a sigh and promising sweet revenge if Steve is playing him for a fool, Billy deliberately pounds up the exposed stairs and marches down the open-to-air landing. Steve’s room is the door on the right, windows overlooking the pool and backyard. Billy knows because he’s seen Steve peek at him sometimes from this window like some hungry damsel. Billy already has his teeth tight behind his frown when he steps through Steve’s open door and then stops like the air becomes a brick wall. 

Not quite splayed on the bed, Steve lies on his front naked as the day he’d been born. And yes, the whole back of him from nape to ankles is pink at best lobster red at worst. Arms down with his fingers pointed to the end of the queen-sized bed, Steve gives a tiny wiggle. The aloe bottle sits waiting on his nightstand, green gel suspended with air bubbles. Billy only spares it the briefest glance, though. Why bother with that when he has a pretty, squirming omega on display. He reads the atmosphere loud and clear. Steve couldn’t be more obvious if he’d written ‘fuck me’ in red lipstick on his ass. Although Billy wouldn’t mind seeing that. 

Billy doesn’t make a sound as he squats swiftly to pick at the laces of his boots. They’re loose and free in no time, and he toes them off near the door. Socked feet silent on the hardwood, he approaches the bed with equally silent steps and stands at the edge of the mattress facing Steve’s prone body. Even Billy’s breaths make not a rasp as he inhales through his nose and then exhales through a gap in his lips, tasting Steve’s excitement and nerves. Not nerves out of fear, no. He’s practically vibrating on the bed, keeps wiggling and rubbing himself on his duvet. Billy wonders with a tight throat sort of choking him if the omega is already wet. 

Head turned towards the nightstand and Billy, doe eyes crack open just enough to take him in. Standing there with his shoulders and stance squared for a fight. Gaze just as fired up and intense as they rake up Steve’s thighs, ass, and back until blue locks with amber. And Billy stares and stares and stares with awful intentions and promises of roughness, of harsh hands and even meaner teeth, until Steve shudders. Eyes already swimming and melty, Steve draws his teeth over his bottom lip and lets his them fall softly shut. 

Neither boy says anything. Someone should. Someone should ask or tell what this is about. What Steve wants. Billy isn’t a good person, though, and so snatches the aloe off the nightstand and tosses it to the empty spot to Steve’s right. Billy doesn’t bother with his clothes, just flicks the tongue of his belt out and then draws the worn leather from his waist. The buckle clicks in a warning as he holds it dangling in his hand. He has plans for it. Just not yet. It ends up curled like a snake on the duvet with the aloe. Later. 

Billy’s weight dipping the mattress as he climbs up rips a flinch and whine out of Steve. Billy hums through the petulant noise and draws his rough hands up the backs of Steve’s legs. His short nails can’t quite bite into irritated skin how he wants, but the pressure is enough to get Steve hissing and wiggling. 

Billy pinches both thighs and snaps, “Shut up.”

Steve huffs and wiggles again. Frown turning into something mean and unseen, Billy smacks the side of a thigh instead and has to catch a growl when Steve yelps. 

“I said shut up,” Billy commands, rubbing his fingers over the heat from his palm. Steve goes boneless and slack under the power in Billy’s voice. His breaths are loud as he already pants, but Billy allows it. “I haven’t even hurt you yet. You’ll know when I do, so until then keep your whore mouth shut and be a good omega for me. Or else.”

Steve doesn’t need another command after that. He stays still as death besides his back shifting with ragged breaths. Now the ring of desire-submission soaking Steve’s neck curls tantalizing under Billy’s nose. He’d love nothing more than to hold Steve down with his fingers carving dents into scent glands, bruising them, while he fucks Steve raw and hard. He could fast track this whole thing. Just force that wanton ass on his dick and knot with whatever slick Steve has and just make the omega suffer. He’s thought about it with his knot plump in his hand and snarling to the ceiling in his room. But he'd rather play with his toy and treat Steve like the doll he is. Whatever Billy breaks can be fixed. Steve wants this. 

Rough palms sweep up, up, up to pert cheeks and then cup them. Shake them a little. He’ll get to the aloe only after he has his fill. It’s the one courtesy Billy will gift the omega. Everything else is for him to take, and so he helps himself with thumbs in angry, red skin and pries Steve open. Billy cannot snap his teeth fast enough to strangle the deep groan that bursts from the bottom of his throat. 

How long has Steve been soaked like this? Wet like he’s come in his underwear, clear slick wells up from his little hole and spreads a sticky mess up his ass and down to the base of his cock. Billy’s right hand squeezes tighter as the left dives in with fingers rubbing slick all along a tiny scar behind Steve’s dick. It’s a scar he knows well when parents opt to remove the scrotum of their omega babies. It serves no purpose when their balls don’t drop. Billy wonders for only a second if Steve even understands any of that. If Steve understands his body and what makes it truly different from betas and alphas. Hopefully the horny fucker is on birth control of some sort. Billy should ask rather than risk knocking the little princess up. He won’t. 

Steve’s hips cant back, and he rubs himself on Billy’s fingers. Billy can’t have that, can’t have Steve think he can take what’s not his. So, Billy just takes his fingers away. Not before scooping up whatever slick he can puddle in his fingers. He arches forward on his knees to hover above Steve’s back. Right hand peeling away from the omega’s ass, he snaps his clean fingers by Steve’s face. When wet eyes peer open and that pretty mouth frowns as Steve looks over his shoulder, Billy grabs Steve by the face. He smears Steve’s slick over angry lips and red cheeks, his jaw. Steve thrashes and even goes to roll over. Thick fingers thread into Steve’s obnoxious hair to hold him down, and Billy rubs Steve's nose in his mess. 

Over Steve’s muffled hissing and whining, Billy murmurs deeply, “Didn’t know how knot hungry you were, princess. You better hope that pussy of yours didn’t leave a mess on my seats or I’m gonna drag you outside right now and make you lick it up.”

Steve’s next breath hitches against Billy’s cruel fingers curled against his lips. A whimper, needy and eager, and then Steve opens his mouth to clean himself from thick digits. He bobs his head despite Billy’s grip in his hair surely ripping strands from his scalp. Steve’s brow trembles and furrows with each panted breath and loud lap of his tongue. Billy doesn’t let Steve take his fingers into his mouth, only gives the omega enough room to use his tongue. The sights and sounds send everything behind Billy’s navel dropping and kicking. Hard. 

Stooping lower and shoving Steve’s head back to the pillow, he growls next in Steve’s ear, “How long you been wet like this, huh? Since I choked you in the bathroom? Since you sucked on my fingers in front of everyone like a bitch in heat? Huh?”

Billy shakes Steve hard and eats up the way amber eyes flutter and roll back. Billy yanks Steve’s head by his hair to expose his throat. Each breath is a struggle, and Billy doesn’t let up even when Steve gags a little. 

That grip makes it difficult and tight for Steve to plead, “Need you.”

“Yea?” Billy shakes him again and grins at the pained whine he gets. “How long? I know you watch me like all those fucking soccer moms at the pool when I’m on duty. You drool over me just like them, don’t you?”

Another whine and Steve nods in Billy’s tight grip. His fingers are mostly clean, so Billy sits up to tower over Steve. His fingers leave a bit of moisture behind as he takes to dragging them up and down Steve’s sunburn. Not carving into him yet. Just letting the omega feel him. A reward for his honesty. 

He gives Steve a slight taste of nails raking over his sunburn when he sneers, “You were seconds away from dropping to your knees and begging for my knot when I showed up with your little flyer. You posted it at the pool knowing I’d see it.”

Steve’s brow quivers when he moans, “Yes!”

Scoffing, Billy rips his fingers out of soft hair without a shred of kindness and bites, “Thought so. Do your stooges know you’re a sneaky whore? Strutting around, ready to spread your legs for any alpha who treats you like the bitch you are?”

Steve’s hair goes everywhere when he shakes his head with more whines bubbling out of him. His sunburn splashed across his cheeks must be hot enough to scald. 

Billy’s nails bite that much harder, leaving welts on red. 

“Wonder what that cunt you’re sleeping with would say if she saw you now. Gagging for another alpha’s knot.”

Billy’s hand drifts down to Steve’s ass, rears back, and slaps a cheek hard enough to sting his palm. Steve shakes the bed with his flinch, rattles the walls with his wail that peaks into a scream when Billy does it again twice more, just as hard.

“Maybe we should call her. You can tell her how wet I make you, how much better I fuck you than her.”

“No!” Steve cries long and high, voice breaking. 

Billy smacks him again for his trouble and then pets his hand over the burning mark as Steve trembles. 

“Pretty sure I told you to keep quiet. Don’t make me say it again.”

Steve pants all the harder and dares to wiggle. His eyes are wet, practically overflowing when he finally opens them after so long. Billy holds their stare, waiting for Steve to say or do something. Maybe ask him to leave, which he wouldn’t. He’ll take what he wants even if he has to persuade Steve he likes it. Billy can be pretty convincing when he wants to be.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” he says just above a growl. “You’re gonna lie here and take whatever I give you. And you’re gonna like it.” When Steve blinks up at him all pitiful and silent, Billy goes on. “And when I’m done with you, you’re gonna call her and break up with her. I don’t do sloppy seconds.”

Steve sniffles, and then his lips twist into a scowl. 

“What if I don’t?”

A scarred eyebrow cocks up on Billy’s forehead. 

“Then I’ll do it for you. And you won’t like that.”

Steve forgets himself, forgets Billy’s warning, when he sneers, “You wouldn’t do anything. You’re full of shit.”

Hard, blue eyes narrow down at all that bratty sass. Billy knows the moment it occurs to Steve he’s made a mistake, because doe eyes widen when Billy reaches for him. Steve doesn’t scramble away. Doesn’t even cower or yell anything. Billy’s left hand is familiar around the back of Steve’s neck after only one meeting. The sides of Steve’s throat are probably sore from earlier, but Billy digs in all the same. He catches Steve’s moan and gag when he squeezes hard, hard, hard to actually choke Steve this time. The omega’s mouth hangs open, ready to gasp the moment Billy lets up. He only does after he counts to ten in his head. 

“Oh you think so, huh?”

He pauses to let Steve catch his breath, loud panting like a dog, but doesn’t take his hand away. Each gasp he allows Steve will rush past his palm, all for him. Distantly, Billy knows he’s heavy and aching in his jeans, wants to tear Steve apart right now. But he has plans. And Steve needs to understand his place, how things are going to work. Steve will understand after this. 

When Steve just groans under Billy’s hand, the alpha continues lowly, “Don’t think I won’t drag you to her house right now, climb through her window like I’ve seen you do, and fuck you in her bed. And then leave you there like dirty laundry for her to find, marked up and still dripping. If that’s what it takes, then that’s what it takes.” He gives a tiny squeeze to Steve’s throat just to make the omega jump. “It’s your choice. I can fill your clutch here or there, doesn’t matter to me. You’re gonna hang off my knot one way or another, isn’t that right?”

Billy knows Steve’s little alpha plaything is at her summer job right now. She’d shown up last week to do some bullshit report about the pool with a weak-scented beta trailing her like a pup. She was a sneering, snapping mess every second of their conversation. Like she knew Steve was gagging for him—which Billy knows Steve was. Trouble in paradise. That wasn’t nearly as amusing as the beta photographer tagging along with her, all soft eyes and concern. They’re fucking. Billy didn’t even need to scent them when she loitered at the bottom of his throne and pestered him about shit he doesn’t care about and can’t control. Something about kids getting sick after swimming in the pool. Like he has anything to do with that. He just blew pink bubbles down at her, smacking his gum and staring hard at her behind sunglasses.

Eventually, the beta had dragged her away to take photos for the newspaper. Billy wonders if Steve knows about them. If he knows she’s practically marked the other, completely enveloped him in her cloud like a mate. Billy hopes it would break Steve’s heart to know. And he almost wants to tell the omega. Almost. 

When Steve nods and chirps all pretty under Billy’s hand, he relents and sits back up. 

“Good. I’ll hold you to that, and if I find out you didn’t or you lie about it, it’s your funeral. Understand?”

Shoulders hunching despite the burns on them, Steve chirps again and nods. Desire chokes the whole bedroom, now, and Steve gives a wiggle of his ass. The left cheek has a palm print on it, visible even through the red glow of radiating heat. Billy hums, so pleased with himself, and pets over the mark. The first of many on Steve. He’ll be a mess of red and purple when Billy is done. The whole town will know he’s stolen Steve from his gaggle of alphas. Perfect. 

“Glad we can understand each other.” He slaps Steve’s ass harder than before and drinks the wail that pops out of cherry lips. “Now, if you wanna do this the easy way, watch that fucking mouth of yours and do as I tell you. This doesn’t have to hurt, but I can arrange that. Act like a bitch and I’ll treat you like one. Get me?”

Amber eyes crack open once more with fat tears about to overflow. They stick to thick lashes when Steve blinks and nods. Then he pouts and wiggles his ass for Billy. Not a word, his pitiful face pleading for more all on its own. Billy’s eyes smolder when he reaches for Steve’s hair yet again. He can’t deny the pleasure sitting heavy in his gut, racing under his skin. The wait to pop his knot in that sweet clutch won’t be long, now. Billy hopes they get stuck so he can fuck Steve on that thickness until his poor cock comes dry. A slick grin breaks over Billy’s face when he twirls locks of silky hair in his fingers. The omega freezes in anticipation, practically pulls a fucking muscle when every inch of him tenses.

But Billy only pets his hair and purrs, “Good boy,” before sitting all the way back. 

In Billy’s mind, Steve doesn’t need any preparation. He’s wet and ready enough, and Billy would flick the button and zip of his jeans just to bury himself. But he could get that from anyone. Could just pick up any pretty, young thing at the pool and give them the ride of their lives—hard and fast and mean and leave them ruined. And he’ll ruin Steve plenty. Fucking him ragged isnt all Billy will take from Steve, though. He wants Steve mindless and begging like he’s in the midst of his heat, about to burn up if he doesn’t get a heavy knot inside him. It won’t take much. Just a bit of maneuvering, a shuffling of their bodies. Billy will have him screaming yet. 

“On your knees, whore, and be quick about it. If I count to five and you’re not ready, I’m leaving. One. Two. Three. Four…”

Steve shakes the bed on two with his wild scramble to do as Billy says. By four he’s whining and slipping on his knees as the duvet betrays him. But he’s up by five, back bowed and ass up, presented. Steve’s face is smashed into a pillow, and he leaves his mouth open to pant and let loose quiet noises. Nothing that will get him smacked. Just barely stifled whimpers and loud panting. Music to Billy’s ears. 

He rewards that effort with big hands petting up the backs of Steve’s burned thighs. He’d warned the idiot pup to not lie out in the sun. That skin like Steve’s doesn’t tan, only burns. Maybe he’ll learn his lesson after getting the hardest dicking of his life while every inch of that inflamed skin rubs on the sheets. He’ll be so overly sensitive and numb when Billy is done with him…

Hands on pert cheeks, Billy forces Steve’s spine to bow that much more. It probably hurts if Steve’s whine means anything. Billy ignores it and once more thumbs the omega’s cheeks apart. Gathering saliva in his mouth, not that it’s needed, he makes a loud spectacle of pursing his lips and spitting on that pink hole. Steve flinches in his hands, and Billy digs his nails in again. Behave or else. So Steve relaxes once more and trembles, coos when Billy blows cool air over slick skin. 

Steve sends the headboard rattling against the wall with the first lap of tongue, the first flick on his rim. Thighs flinching like a shock, it’s all Steve can do to stay still and be good like he should be. He knows his place, now. Knows he’s Billy’s for as long as the alpha wants to play with him. And the alpha will play, hums deep and satisfied as he stabs his tongue over and over where slick wells up and trickles out of Steve. Just when Steve’s resistance weakens, when he's soft enough to let Billy’s tongue slip in, Billy goes right back to lapping slow and long between his cheeks. 

Steve’s next cry is whiny and demanding. Can’t have that. Billy pulls away, gathers the mix of slick and saliva in his mouth, and spits on Steve again. His left hand beating the same cheek, same spot cruel and hard, follows shortly after. It sends Steve rocking on his knees and scraping his burned chest on the duvet. The pain kicks through him with a shudder and whimper. Billy bites the corner of his mouth to stifle himself. Steve hasn’t earned Billy’s noises yet. Billy releases his grip on Steve’s cheeks only to swipe his hands over downy hair on his thighs. Down at first and then back up to cup Steve again, shaking his ass just to watch. 

“That uppity cunt ever eat your pussy out?”

Steve startles at the growl in Billy’s voice, but he remembers himself and shakes his head instead of talking. 

Scoffing, Billy snaps his teeth at the cheek he’s yet to slap and grunts, “Her loss. This is all mine now.”

Steve gives him the prettiest noise so far. Billy stays up long enough to watch Steve moan all fluttery and broken, cataloguing the red of Steve’s lips and the fan of his lashes, how his throat rolls when he swallows. The sight and sound charge Billy’s blood and send him to shove his face deeper between Steve’s cheeks. When he’s done, his chin and upper lip will be wet, but if they’re not, did he truly go down on Steve? No. He’ll probably also leave bruises from how deep his fingers dig in as he holds Steve open. They’ll just serve as more reminders of who Steve belongs to. He won’t be able to sit comfortably for a few days. 

A constant stream of breathy moans and choked whines spill from Steve’s mouth. Billy’s gut kicks particularly hard when Steve wiggles against him and tenses all shy. She really doesn’t go down on him. Maybe no one ever has. And that is a damn shame for Steve, because he gushes more and more, loosens up with each curl of tongue and fast, filthy stabs with the tip. It’s not such a shame for Billy if he is the first. He wants to be the first. Billy could probably make the omega come like this, but that’s not the plan. No, if he were to do that, he'd rather tease Steve for hours and not let him come until he was a blabbering pile of boy, nothing but raw nerves and tight skin that needs to come now, now, now!

Billy allows himself a groan with one last press of the flat of his tongue all over Steve’s hole, feeling Steve quiver. He doesn’t give Steve a chance to plop weightless to the bed when he pulls back, though. No, he’s getting riled up, and the pain between his legs from being aroused for so long is getting to him. He doesn’t have the fog of a rut to help him ignore and power through that heavy ache in his balls. Teeth biting the corner of his mouth, Billy holds Steve open with his right yet again. Mindless of the silver on his middle finger, Billy spits on Steve again and shoves two fingers through saliva and slick to dip in him. No resistance. Only tightness that grips him at the base of his knuckles when he spreads Steve wide and obscene. 

Sitting up to watch Steve’s hole suck his fingers down, Billy purrs all mean and wicked, “I know she’s fucked this loose pussy of yours.” Heat climbs into Steve’s ears, turning the cartilage bright red. “What, you don’t like that? I’m just telling you like it is.” Billy curls his fingers just so and grins when Steve shakes the whole bed again. “Somebody is using this hole, cuz I could probably get my whole fist in you.”

Steve’s shoulders hunch up by his flaming ears, and he whines, “Shut up!”

Eyes wild and grin a little crazed, Billy drawls, “Oh the princess is gonna talk back, huh?”

He bullies the rest of his fingers minus his thumb into Steve as punishment. It’s too much too fast, and Steve’s next cry breaks his voice a little. He’s hurting Steve, and Billy eats up the betrayed, teary-eyed stare the omega tosses over his slim shoulder. 

“Jerk,” he says with a pout of that fat bottom lip. 

Batting his eyes at Steve and giving him a pitiful look in return, Billy whines, “Aww, poor, little omega, don’t like it when I talk about”—he drags his fingers over Steve’s prostate just to feel him clench—“your pretty pussy, huh?”

Cherry lips screw up, Steve’s cheeks not cooling off in the slightest, and he smacks his face into the pillow. Huffing and bratty once more, Steve is greedy when he rocks on his knees, pushing Billy’s fingers deeper into him. An incoherent mumble whispers from the pillowcase. 

“What was that?”

Billy’s tease is still thick and syrupy, not yet edging into impatience. He’d demanded Steve’s compliance and silence, but this is fun. Humiliating Steve, knocking him down a peg or two is just what the omega needs. Not another alpha kissing his ass—although Billy liked that just fine. 

Steve mumbles again, his words not any clearer. Now Billy’s patience wears thin, and he starts to slip out of Steve. Just down to two fingers barely inside him. 

From the bottom of his throat, voice dragged over gravel, Billy sing-songs, “Ste-eve.” It’s more a threat than a request that Steve speak clearly.

A muffled scream in the pillow, and then Steve turns his head to the side again. The two beauty marks on his left cheek practically blend in with how dark he blushes when he whines, “I like it, okay!”

Ah, his whine is so desperate, so full of shame. The moment it’s out, Steve smacks his face right back into the pillow. Hiding. That revelation, though, stirs up Billy’s possessive streak. It’s the exact opposite of what he’d thought Steve would say. He thought the omega would rear his head around and spit and hiss and sass. Maybe finally work up the balls to tell Billy to get out. Not that Billy would have, not when he’s so close to knocking Steve all the way off his high horse. Someone has to do it. And if Steve likes being talked down to and humiliated, well, then Billy is all in.

Humming so pleased with this turn of events, Billy rewards that honesty. Because Steve obeying his few requests deserves some positive reinforcement. Billy leans above Steve again, sliding his right hand over sunburned skin. He sinks four fingers back into Steve, too, with only a modicum of resistance. Billy’s right hand gets Steve by the back of the neck with all five digits digging gently into his throat. Not choking him this time. It’s just what Steve needs to sink into his bed once more, a puddle of needy omega who trembles so full and yet not full enough. Billy knows what Steve needs, knows nobody has been able to hit it just right to satisfy him. Steve wouldn’t act out the way he does if an alpha handled him correctly.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, princess?”

Steve huffs under his hand but offers no other objection. 

Smug now, Billy drawls, “Nobody dares talk to you like this. Especially not her, yea? Even when you’re in heat or she’s in rut. I bet she’s all soft on you, thinks you can’t take it, thinks you need to be fucked like you’ll break.”

Steve grumbles into his pillow. At the barest bit of pressure from Billy’s fingers in his neck, the omega turns his head and mumbles, “Maybe. What makes you think we have sex? Maybe I just like her.”

Billy barks a laugh and curls his fingers in slow circles over Steve’s sweet spot. Steve trills just like Billy knew he would. Steve leaves his cheek pressed to the pillow with all his potent desire almost oily under Billy’s hand. Shy, Steve watches up the slope of his body as Billy goes right on fingering him. Their breaths aren’t nearly loud enough to drown out the filthy, wet sound of Steve opening for him. If Steve’s ears could curl in on themselves, Billy is sure they would. Especially as Steve stares at his mouth. Waiting for more humiliation.

“There’s no way Miss Priss doesn’t fuck you. You probably crawl up to her begging for it when you’re in heat.” Steve’s face heats up even more, so much embarrassment and nowhere to go. Billy feels him swallow hard. “Tell me how she used to fuck you, pretty boy. And don’t lie, now, you’ll regret it.”

Billy fights Steve’s body as he spreads his fingers as wide as they’ll go. Steve will need all the loosening he can handle for the knot that will fill him shortly. Still, the omega fusses and squirms on four fingers again. He even pouts for good measure.

“If I tell you, will you fuck me?” He blinks big eyes up at Billy, nice and slow. Practiced. Steve can’t hold the stare, though, and eventually blinks somewhere near Billy’s mouth. “I want you in me.”

It’s another brush of honesty with Steve. Like pushing him against the house and having Steve submit to him. Or watching those red lips mouth ‘please’ in the bathroom before they’d been interrupted. A shiver sparks at the nape of Billy’s neck under the curled mop of his hair. It spreads like electricity eating steel wool, lighting up every inch of him. Nothing quite like having an omega wet on your fingers and they beg for more.

“Make it good and I’ll think about it.”

Not every inconvenience requires a pout, no matter how small, but Steve will not be convinced of that. At least he’s a little cute when he does it. It’s still bratty, because there’s a chance he won’t get his way. Which is why Steve pouts in the first place. But it’s cute. Billy would rather Steve cooperate, though, and encourages said cooperation with a slight lift of his chin and rocking his fingers into Steve again. A shudder dashes across Steve’s face, teeth in his bottom lip again, but he holds it together. He must want this just as much as Billy does. 

“Well…” Steve can’t hold their stare, and it doesn’t surprise Billy at all when warm eyes take to glancing at him instead. “It depends on what she wants. If—”

“I think you mean what she ‘wanted.’ Don’t forget that little phone call you’ll be making later. You and her are done.”

Steve huffs, rolls his eyes under his lids, and then sticks his tongue out at Billy. 

“Okay, whatever, it depended on what she wanted. She didn’t always wanna knot me with her strap, so—”

“Ohhh, I get it,” Billy cuts him off again, sort of relishes Steve’s expression souring. Too bad, brat. “Unless you fucked freckle face, you’ve never actually had a real knot. Fuck, it all makes sense now.”

If Billy were interested in releasing the back of Steve’s neck, he would smack his own forehead. Of course. It’s the missing puzzle piece of Steve acting out like he does. Sure, Steve had an alpha—as weak as she is—but Billy knows better. Steve’s body knows better, too. That a prosthetic knot isn’t as good as the real thing. 

Steve’s frown is sour candy when he mutters, “I wouldn’t do that. Tommy loves Carol…”

Scoffing, Billy picks up his pace inside Steve, knuckles smacking wet and loud against his ass. He’s almost had it with talking. Steve is ready for him. This is just Billy toying with him, now. 

“What’s love got to do with it? A knot’s a knot, just”—Billy presses his lips together, parts them with an obnoxious sound—“pop it in and be done. It’s not rocket science.”

Steve’s eyes flutter and roll back in his head despite his gnashing teeth and grimace that melts under a needy moan. His noises turn high again as they break the trailing edge of his voice. Maybe he’s embarrassed he doesn’t bellow like a man. Or that when it’s good, like right now, he gets desperate and breathy. Not unlike the times Billy has heard girls getting railed. Not by him, not if it was the last clutch on earth. But he’s heard it all, doesn’t even try to stop the mean grin that breaks across his face like a sinkhole opening up. If Steve wants to moan like a girl, Billy will indulge him.

“Speaking of which, I think it’s about time I introduce your pussy to something it can really catch on, princess. None of that fake shit here, right?”

Billy slows down without a warning, drags his fingers until only three sort of play inside a few inches. Steve goes weightless in the bed again. His knees are about to slide out from under him. Billy doesn’t have any interest in flipping Steve around or rearranging the omega. Fucking him face down, ass up is perfectly fine. It’s not the worst way to lock in someone, although Billy suspects they’ll get stuck for a while. That factor is what makes him reconsider. With an annoyed roll of his eyes, he’ll consider changing things up when his knot swells. Sitting Steve in his lap, Billy’s back to the headboard, would be best. Let the princess sit on his throne.

Rough plans hashed out, Billy lets Steve’s squirming body push him out. He hums, still pleased with himself, and wipes his fingers on Steve’s bruised cheek. Darker than the other, it already tints from abuse. Billy wouldn’t mind seeing that pert ass beaten purple, but maybe another time. Instead, he shows Steve a small mercy and smacks the plush bottom of the other cheek instead. Steve nearly topples when he flinches from the impact. He has enough brains to twist his head against the pillow and scowl down at Billy’s smug stare. Billy just smacks him again for good measure. The sweetness of Steve’s desire is almost over-ripened fruit, now. He’s ready. 

Through the desperate peal of Steve’s moan, Billy finally, blessedly flicks the button and zip on his jeans. He considers his ratty shirt with the sleeves cut off, considers taking it off. A glance down makes the decision for him—Steve panting through a wince as every shift irritates his beaten ass and the emptiness inside him. Billy wants Steve to choke on the thick musk of him. What better way than holding Steve’s head down with the shirt under him? So, abandoning the reveal for a moment, Billy tugs his shirt over his head. The chill in here from the AC does nothing to temper the desire searing his flesh and charging his blood. He will have this spoiled omega, give it to Steve good and hard like he needs. Maybe Steve will chill the fuck out after that.

Billy cranes up on his knees with his black shirt puddled in his left, right returning to Steve’s hair. Without preamble, thick fingers sink into those strands again and yank Steve’s head back. He pays no mind to the omega’s whine or how his throat goes so tight with the angle that Billy basically strangles him with it. Like this, though, he has enough space between Steve’s grimacing lips and the pillow to slide his shirt between the two. That done, he shoves Steve right back down and lingers long enough to rub the omega’s nose in it. Not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough for Steve to go pliant under him. Submitting like earlier when Billy rubbed slick all over his face. Maybe he should do that same later when he pops out and the mess leaks out of Steve. It’s a thought. Steve would whine about it but probably like it, covered in his new alpha’s scent. It’s a thought.

That done, everything ready, Billy considers his belt left beside the aloe all this time. He would laugh about them not doing what Steve had wanted him to, but Billy always knew they’d skip right over that. Some part of him knew the moment Steve galloped up the stairs with these long legs that they’d get to fucking before any sort of first aid. Billy is a man of his word and will stay for the aloe. Maybe even after, if he’s feeling generous. If Steve behaves and keeps that ass high and tight. But for now Billy plucks the soft leather of his belt up. He can’t help but string the length between his hands, fold it in half, and then snap it twice. Hard. 

Steve startles, and Billy speaks over it, “Hands behind your back, bitch, let’s go.”

Lips wrinkling into something unhappy, Steve cranes his head around to eye Billy’s belt. After everything Billy has done to him, all the meanness, now Steve finally cowers. Just a little. 

“Y-you’re not gonna hit me with that, are you?”

“If you keep talking and don’t do as you’re told, yea. I’ll belt you until you can’t sit. So”—Billy snaps the leather again and hums when Steve shudders—“you gonna play nice? Or does my whore need some convincing to be good for me?”

Face carefully blank, Billy pets the folded bend of his belt over Steve’s left thigh. Up his bruised cheek, across the divide, and then over the over. Steve’s right thigh is his target. Billy stares hard at Steve when he whips the belt against the taut outside of Steve’s leg. Just one lick. Just enough bright, numb pain for Steve to yelp. Belt only a little awkward in Billy’s right hand, the left can’t help itself when he thumbs Steve open again to watch him squirm and leak. Steve’s moan is loud enough to wreck his voice. Oh yes, he’ll definitely have to explore this. Steve is just full of surprises. 

Voice all over the place and breaths fluttery once more, Steve pleads, “No, no, no more, I’ll be good alpha, I promise, god it hurts.” He grits his teeth as heat rises fresh in his cheeks and stains him bright pink again. “Need you, alpha, need you so bad, wanna feel you, want your knot fuck…”

Billy never was any good at self control. He smacks Steve’s thigh again, twice real quick, and then fondles the omega’s cheek when it’s over. He watches Steve’s mouth hang open and tears leak down the side of his nose as he chokes on thick sounds. Maybe sobs. Billy wants to hear them. 

“You’ll be good? You better not be lying.”

Steve wobbles as he gets his knees back under him like at the start. His back bows that much more, beautiful as he presents Billy his poor ass. Steve’s knees slide apart until Billy can almost see that pink hole of his. Almost. 

“Please, please,” Steve pants, gone now. “I-I’ll be good, I’m yours, I’m yours! Take me, fucking god…!”

Possessiveness curling Billy’s lips into a snarl, he swings the leather through the air down on Steve’s ass. His left still spreads over the cheek bearing his handprint. They’ll at least match in soreness, now. Perfect. 

Throbbing in his jeans, Billy spits with all his ravenous desire laced into his words, “Say you’re my bitch.”

Always rebelling, Steve whines behind his teeth in his lip. Can’t have that, so Billy growls and smacks him again. He’ll leave welts. 

“Say it!”

Billy’s right arm rears up to hit him again, but Steve blurts red to his hairline and full of shame, “I’m your bitch!”

Growl in full force, Billy lets his belt swing down, down, down with a crack of skin and a wail. 

“Whose knot do you need?”

“Yours, alpha!”

Crack. 

“Fucking whore, you gonna keep that ass up and take every drop.”

Steve nods with wild abandon, tears surely soaking into the pillowcase as he nearly sobs, “Alpha please!”

One last lick over Steve’s ass, welts angry and already visible, Billy’s growl is more animal sound than language when he snaps, “Hands. Behind. Your back. Now.”

And Steve listens like a dream. He pants hard between sobs and emotion bubbling up in his throat, but he obeys. Long fingers tremble curled in palms as Steve balances his weight on his shoulders and face. He sniffles ugly and wet and sort of tucks his face to the pillow. Billy’s possessive streak prowls like a caged animal in his stomach as he watches it all. A purr may betray his brutality, but he can’t help it as Steve trembles harder and harder. Billy can’t shake his right hand free of his belt fast enough.

His hands are oddly gentle as he guides Steve’s where he wants them. Rough palms pet Steve’s arms up and down a few times until the omega’s tremble is more like an occasional shudder. His tears have stopped, and he turns his head back out of the pillow. Billy holds their stare for a breath, another. When Steve just blinks big eyes up at him and gives a wiggle, Billy directs his attention to the belt. 

Looping the tongue through the prong but not finding a hole, Billy feeds Steve’s crossed wrists through the circle. He tightens his belt until the leather rests on milky skin. It doesn’t bite into Steve, no, just holds his hands together. That done, Billy threads the rest of the length over and through the loop to bind Steve. He won’t be able to free his hands himself. And Billy won’t be able to do it quickly if Steve needs to get free. He shouldn’t do it this way. Unsafe. But he does anyway. 

Below him and bowed perfectly, Steve is a squirming pile of boy. Some fear cuts through his sweetness. Billy prefers sour lemonade, though, and takes huge breaths until he can almost taste that undertow. Taste that edge of fear swimming through Steve’s honey. Emboldened, Billy’s hands are sure of themselves when they return to the front of his jeans. He doesn’t want to take them all the way off. Would rather just wipe himself off on Steve’s sheets, zip up, and leave when he’s done with the aloe. Leave Steve blissed out in his little nest. But if he’s going to lock in that pretty clutch, well… Sweating in jeans is never pleasant. So he drags them down and kicks them off, has to fucking stand up from the bed to do it. He’s back behind Steve before the omega can even whimper at the loss. 

Right hand prying Steve open and holding him steady by his ass, Billy purrs, “Scream if you want to, nobody’s gonna hear you.”

It’s all the warning he gives. Billy shuffles on his knees between Steve’s spread wide in the bed, dick in hand. It’d hurt to have the zipper bite into velvety foreskin. But it doesn’t matter now. Billy only works a hand over himself to tease for what’s coming. His thighs brush Steve’s body as he brings them together, leans forward to nudge the blood-hot head of his cock over that loose hole. Molten blues watching Steve’s face, Billy rubs teasing circles around and around where his mouth and fingers had been first. He wants to hold his belt and Steve’s wrists when he finally gets inside. Wouldn’t mind bending over Steve’s shaking body and grab him by the hair again. They’re all plans that draw his lips back from his teeth, have his tongue licking over bone, and then he pushes forward. 

In, in, in through the initial tightness, Steve’s moan climbing high after the breech, and then their noises are one. Pelvis flush to sunburn and bruises and welts, Billy gives himself a moment, spoils himself, and just feels Steve wet and tight around him. Teeth in his cheek, Billy draws his nails over the raised welts on Steve’s ass. Not carving, just drawing the blunt edges over them. Steve snaps tighter around him and trashes a little. Billy pulls away only to swing his palm down on those welts. He knows it hurts, knows it’s cruel, and he cannot deny how delicious Steve’s pain is. 

“That’s right, pretty boy, keep that pussy tight for me.” Billy rocks his hips back only to snap them right back, jarring Steve on his knees and chest. “This belongs to me now. If I ever catch you spreading your legs for anybody else—”

“I won’t!” Steve sobs with his face so red, eyes pinched shut. He babbles panting and out of breath, “I won’t, I won’t, only you, yours alpha yours, I promise, oh g-god fuck me, need it, ahhh!”

Hands curling around Steve’s hips, Billy makes good on Steve’s whimpers. They shake the bed immediately, don’t even work up a long rhythm to get the springs squeaking and headboard groaning as it sways. It’s enough to pop moan after moan out of Steve as their bodies meet. Billy recaps his desire to hold Steve by the wrists or hair while fucking him. The sloppy omega may as well enjoy this for a time before Billy uses him like the wet hole he is. Left hand cruel and bruising on Steve’s hip, Billy curls his free hand over the leather of his belt snaked around and around slim wrists. 

Teeth gnashing and aching to bite, Billy purrs, “You like being used like this? Like having your nose rubbed in your own mess and then fucked like a cheap whore?”

Billy pulls on Steve’s arms—not enough to injure him, putting a shoulder back in a socket is a pain in the ass. Only hard enough so some pain seeps into the thick miasma of their arousal, Steve’s lingering nerves. The pain erupts in a shudder and tight whine from Steve. Like he doesn’t want Billy to know it hurts. Billy yanks that much harder on the omega’s wrists until he’s about to lift Steve’s chest off the bed. Steve’s next whimper has an edge to it, stop you’re hurting me, that’s too much, I don’t like it. 

“I asked you a question,” Billy snaps. He holds Steve’s arms taut like this even as Steve tosses him a desperate glance. “You love running your whore mouth, so out with it. Or I’ll stop.”

Steve shakes his head with wild abandon and groans, “No, no, don’t stop. I like it, I-I, I don’t, I don’t know what you want, tell me what to say, please, I’ll do it, just don’t stop.”

Billy gives a brief tug on Steve, irritating the strain on his arms. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it.”

It’s not a question, and Steve’s face crumbles a little when he nods. 

“You couldn’t stop me if I wanted to hurt you. I could hold you down and take whatever I want.” He wrenches Steve’s arms higher and wishes he were close enough to lap up the moisture about to overflow on Steve’s lashes. “You like being used, princess? Tell me.”

Billy guides Steve’s hands back to the dip of his spine but doesn’t let go as he smacks his hips into Steve’s ass again. Steve’s body shakes with the force, hair flopping and voice all over the place with each jarring thrust. Oh and how wet Steve is, making a sticky mess between his cheeks and spreading it to the base of Billy’s cock. It’ll be great when his knot swells up. Soon. Steve is too pretty, too tight, too perfect for Billy to resist. He’ll pop soon enough, make Steve come full and struggling on his first real knot. It’s everything Billy wants. 

Steve finds a breath eventually and pleads, “I-I like being used. Harder!”

Billy stops with his pelvis flush to Steve’s ass, grinding in even as Steve thrashes. 

“Whores don’t make demands. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Steve trembles in the bed and tries to rock himself on Billy’s dick instead. Sucking his teeth, can’t have that, Billy leans back and slides all the way out. He’ll be back where he belongs soon. Rough hands grab pert cheeks and hold them open to watch that empty clutch try to tighten on nothing. Greedy. 

“No! No!” Steve yells, some of his tenor fighting through his breathlessness. “I’m sorry, don’t stop, I don’t want you to stop.” When Billy just keeps staring, he thrashes more. “Use me, do whatever you want, knot me, fill me up, just-oh god, I’m yours! Alpha please, I’ll be good.” A sob knocks out of him as he smacks his head into the pillow. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—”

Voice laced with power, no order but still an alpha command, Billy purrs, “Good boy.”

It’s the only warning Steve gets before rough hands spin the world around him. Steve’s bed is plenty big enough for Billy to roll Steve like a sack of potatoes off his knees, onto his right side, and then flat on his back. The omega lands on his arms still bound behind him. It probably hurts if Steve’s wince means anything. Billy doesn’t care, grabs Steve behind his knees and throws them over the shelf of his own shoulder. Right hand fast as a viper, Billy grabs Steve by the wave of his hair and forces his head back. Panting but pliant, the spitting image of a omega submitting perfectly, Billy can’t get his left hand around his dick fast enough to slam back inside Steve. 

It strikes Billy then, something animal and instinctual that only understands fucking and fighting for his life. The overwhelming urge to hold Steve down by his pretty neck while fucking him. Billy has to knock Steve’s legs off his shoulders to do it, though. He gnashes his teeth and considers fighting it for a second. But with each wet rush of his cock through Steve’s tightness, how he rocks Steve’s body on the bed, he knows he can’t deny himself. Billy slaps Steve’s legs back down to the bed and nearly pulls a muscle with how fast he strikes out to wrap cruel hands around the omega’s neck. 

Billy catches Steve’s first, choked gasp and then every other one after that. Mindful to not put pressure straight down on Steve’s windpipe, Billy squeezes the pads of his palms to the sides instead. He holds the trashing omega down this way while his hips thunder away. Teeth bared as he pants above Steve, Billy eats up every twitch, every flutter of wet eyes. Even when Steve’s eyes roll back in his head and he tips his chin up, baring his neck despite his alpha already claiming it, Billy can’t look away. Steve’s mouth hangs open like his sounds keep pouring out of them. But Billy wants them all for himself, denies them existing in the world despite the empty house. He wants them only for himself, to control when they come and go, when Steve is allowed to breathe to make more. Only for him. 

“You’re mine,” Billy snarls through a pant, fangs poking out once more. He can feel it building up behind his navel, anticipation about to stream from that heavy place inside him and thicken his knot. He’ll feed every bit of it into Steve until the omega is full and flooded. “You, your body”—Billy lets up on Steve’s throat so the omega can draw in a full breath—“everything. Look at me.”

And Steve obeys without hesitation. He is all trills and high whines, his tenor drowned under them. He keeps his neck bared for Billy, scent under Billy’s hands potent with desire to rival his own. Anything to appease the alpha rocking the bed and Steve’s body with powerful hips picking up speed. Surely Steve can feel it. The atmosphere thickening like a storm turning the horizon green just before total destruction. Billy’s hips stutter, now, and they groan together when the omega’s stretched rim starts to catch on thickness. Billy slows down with only a slight hitch in their rhythm. Slow and almost tender as he draws the beginning swell of his knot in and back out of Steve, fucking him on the thickness. 

Billy’s hands only cup pink skin and Steve’s hummingbird pulse when he groans, “Say you’re mine.” His head almost lulls back, but he snaps his teeth to get ahold of himself. Rougher, he hisses, “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

His hips slow to a swirl, letting Steve’s body ride the thickness and pressure. Milky inner thighs shake where they’re hiked up on Billy’s hips. He’s almost there, just needs a little more. When Steve groans under his hands and tries his best to wiggle on Billy’s knot, Billy just stops with only the beginning swell of it teasing him. He peels his hands away from Steve’s throat, only manages to do with without reluctance because he curls over Steve. They’re in each other’s faces, Billy’s whole jaw aching to bite down on something. If this were his rut, he’d have bitten Steve bloody and raw by now. Instead, he waits for Steve to bare his neck again and then nips at his jaw.

“Say it or you’re not getting this knot.”

Steve’s breath plays with Billy’s ear and a curl of hair that falls over it. The omega squirms on him, already sort of hanging off him. Billy can’t think about that or he’ll pop right now, and he’s not where he needs to be. He nips Steve again, and that cuts through the lustful haze coursing through Steve. The dips and hollows of Steve’s neck are soaked with how much he wants it. This close, Billy can almost taste it.

“I’m yours, alpha,” Steve pleads with his voice torn at the edges, shredded after so much hollering like the whore he is. “I belong-I belong to you, I promise, I won’t let… anyone else fuck my pussy, I swear, I need you so bad, please oh-oh god, please give it to me.”

Billy shifts his head to watch the omega’s face. Steve turns big, watery eyes up at him. Billy sees himself in them. Soft thighs squeeze around Billy for good measure. That or they’re trying to hug that alpha closer. Trying to take when he should just lie there and accept whatever Billy gives him. It’s no matter. Billy is beyond punishing hypotheticals with his knot growing heavy, almost full. Fat lip out, Steve trashes as best he can with his hands still bound behind and under him. The world stands still for Billy as he watches Steve fall apart in his desperation. Another tear slipping down from those puppy eyes startles Billy like a shock. 

Rough hands below and between them holding Steve down, Billy stares with full intensity as he rocks forward. He has to nudge his hips back and forth to work himself into Steve, to bully his knot through that sweet tightness. He knows the moment Steve realizes what’s happening, that he’s taking the knot, because the wet clutch around him goes impossibly tighter. Pressing and squeezing that used hole around Billy’s knot like a vice, locking them together. Amber eyes fly open wider than ever before, and then so much red flushes Steve’s face, the bridge of his nose. He flinches as his face crumbles, jaw trembling, and turns his head away to scream at the window. 

The call of Steve’s throat—mark me, bite me, make me yours—is undeniable now. Groaning and almost breathless himself, Billy gives in to his last desire. Fangs out and sharp, Billy tucks his face to the crook of Steve’s neck and catches porcelain and beauty marks in his mouth. His teeth are next, pricking heat and arousal until blood wells up. Harder and harder until Steve’s pulse flutters like a trapped animal against his tongue. It’s almost as good as Steve writhing and snapping around Billy’s knot, coming without anyone having ever played with his dick. 

Steve bucks hard under him. But pinned between a knot and fangs tearing his throat, he can’t go very far. Billy’s eyes pinch shut but then just as quickly flutter as they roll back in his head. It’s all animal instinct as his hips pop forward, bouncing Steve into his jaws with every wave of his orgasm. Tighter and tighter as the pressure inside Steve drives the omega’s orgasm longer and harder, in turn dragging out Billy’s too. Steve isn’t even in heat, but that clutch is about to make Billy pass out from how good it is. He’s smug with blood and sweet arousal in his mouth. He knew it. He knew Steve just needed a real alpha to put him in his place. Show him how it’s supposed to be. 

Blood that escapes Billy’s lips and tongue stains Steve’s pillowcase. Billy doesn’t care when he pulls off, pressure on his fangs driving him wild as they slip out of Steve’s neck with a wet noise. A deep growl that shreds Billy’s voice and then he’s biting Steve again. He’ll leave teeth marks all over this pretty neck and Steve’s shoulders. The omega will be a used mess before Billy is done with him. That weak cunt he’d been fucking will know the truth today, the other two stooges soon enough. They’ll know the moment they see Steve, the moment they scent a hot-blooded alpha all over his neck that Steve belongs to him. If only they could smell Steve right now, blissed out and full of knot and come. Billy wants to roll Steve back over when he pops out and watch it all drool out of him. 

For now, though, Billy’s lower back protests this position they’re stuck in. And they’re properly stuck. Steve whines and wiggles under Billy’s teeth when the alpha dares to rock their bodies together. Billy thinks through the fog of his orgasm still thick in his head that Steve whimpers for no more, that he’s too full, that he can’t take anymore. Billy’s knees certainly agree with that. A shift on them welcomes blood back into the joints. Billy’s legs may be asleep. Whatever. Grumbling with omega blood staining his teeth and thick on his tongue, Billy adjusts them again. He’ll have to forgo his earlier want of piling Steve in his lap as they wait to unlock. He’ll just lie on top of Steve instead, paint the other side of his neck with bruises and bites. Any omega of Billy’s needs full coverage when it comes to marks.

A soft whimper as fangs pierce him again, Steve breathes, “Billy, my hands um...”

Billy doesn’t unlock his teeth, just growls around the blood he laps up. Steve’s voice, ragged and raspy from his scream, whimpers again. 

“Billy, I can’t feel my hands…”

Billy bites him that much harder for his troubles. This one and the first bite will probably need a bandage patched over them. Steve’s a big boy and can do that himself. Another wet noise as Billy pulls his fangs out and then he lifts his head to angle a thin glare at Steve. The omega is still all soft, practically glowing from all they’ve done. But he wiggles under Billy’s bulk and sticks his bottom lip out all the same. 

“Brat,” Billy sneers more to himself than Steve.

Arms shaking only a tiny bit, Billy slaps both hands into the duvet under them. It’ll need a good wash to get slick, sweat, and come out of it. If Billy has his way, Steve would sleep with it until the smells go sour. Rolling his eyes, Billy leans his weight on his right hand and threads the left between Steve and the bed. His fingers scramble to find his belt and tug on the snaking leather. He probably can’t unwind it like this but loosen it enough so that Steve can free his hands. Leather slack, Steve’s body shakes as he bows up and makes room to wiggle his wrists out of the loop. He plops back to the bed, weightless, and lifts his hands up to look at them. 

They’re angry red, fingers trembling hard as blood rushes freely in and out through Steve’s wrists again. Some fear and nerves spur the cloud of honey around them as Steve watches his fingers tremble. He shares a glance with Billy, finds the alpha already waiting for him. Swallowing hard, Steve reaches for him with those numb hands. The alpha bares his teeth in a warning for Steve to behave. If Steve thinks he will tolerate the omega slapping and scratching like back at the movie theater, rebelling, Steve has another thing coming. 

The bite of nails never comes. Whine and pout the spoiled sort, Steve loops his arms around Billy’s neck. The shock of it loosens Billy’s snarl and knocks him off kilter enough for Steve’s shaking strength to pull him back down. And he goes without a fight even when arms and legs envelop him tightly. Holding him like a vice on top of Steve despite his weight probably crushing the omega a bit. Billy considers snapping his teeth and objecting to Steve nuzzling him. A warm cheek and soft lips pet over his jaw, his hair. Billy doesn’t exactly have a choice until they unlock. He may as well indulge Steve instead of commanding the omega to stop and having to deal with him sour and unhappy. 

“Don’t get used to this,” Billy grumbles. “If we weren’t locked, I’d leave you out like wet laundry.”

“Sure,” Steve sighs in his ear, nips the lobe without its normal earring. “I believe that for a second. You can’t lie”—a high whine cuts Steve off as Billy pops his hips mean and hard a few times, stealing them omega’s breath—“J-jerk, play fair, you know you like this part.”

Billy blinks hard in the messy nest of Steve’s hair. 

“What are you talking about?”

Steve’s cuddling slows but doesn’t stop. 

“This,” he says like it’s obvious. “When you’re locked with someone and you just cuddle and talk to each other.”

Scoffing, Billy drawls, “Yea, no, I don’t do cuddling.”

“Well, you’re doing it so…” Lips tickle the shell of that same ear. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Steve’s limbs around him tighten the moment Billy tries to tear back. 

“Don’t be such a jackass,” Steve bites out. “If you’re gonna fuck me all the time and I’m yours or whatever, then you’re cuddling. That’s all there is to it.”

“Like hell I will.”

Steve dares to rock himself on Billy’s knot still stretching him wide. It’s Billy’s turn to pant and groan, wordless. 

“Even Nancy held me after and told me how good I was for her. If you think you’re a better alpha than her, then you’ll do it. Or when I call her, I’ll just tell her you fucked me and left and that I’m lonely and sad.” Steve squeezes around him and rips another, deeper groan out of Billy. “And she’d come over and ruin your claim.”

Steve’s arms loosen just a hair, barely enough for Billy to lift his head with a snarl and stare at all that smugness on Steve’s pretty face. 

“So yea, I’m your bitch I guess, but it goes both ways. So we’re cuddling. And you’re taking me out on Friday. I wanna go to the rollercade, and you’re gonna skate with me and hold my hand whenever I want.”

Teeth on edge and hackles high, Billy hisses, “Mouthy whore, if you think for one fucking second—”

“Oh I do,” Steve says with a smile and a bat of his eyelashes. “If you don’t, then I’ll find someone else to do it. And you can hear all about how I fucked some other alpha with your marks all over me and let them knot me instead of you. Maybe I’ll have them drop me off at your house and you can get a whiff of someone else’s come in me.”

Eyebrows reaching for his hairline and jaw almost hanging open, Billy stares. His lack of words has nothing to do with Steve’s cheeky smile and the way he tightens over Billy’s knot again and again. Like he can milk another orgasm out of the alpha. 

Eventually, the pleasure gets the better of Billy’s wild shock. Eyes fluttering for a second, he wrangles it all back under control. But his snarl is gone, lips tense in his normal, resting bitch face. This is… unexpected. Billy isn’t sure what to do with all this, doesn’t like not having the upper hand or being thrown ass over teakettle like this. A cold shiver runs up and down Billy’s broad back. His insides sort of sink a little. Not fear, Jesus no, just… No one has ever wanted to possess him like this. Like he wants to possess Steve. 

“You…” Billy huffs, licks his lips, and then shakes his head. “You unbelievable bitch…”

Arms and legs squeezing Billy in a brief hug, Steve smiles when he says, “You said yourself I’m a spoiled brat, so I don’t know why you’re so surprised.” Steve’s eyes grow heavy. Amber on fire even as his eyes are half-lidded, Steve murmurs, “I always get what I want, Billy. And I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time.”

Plush lips help themselves to Billy’s. Even if Billy is too shocked to kiss back, Steve hums needy and happy as he laps his way into Billy’s mouth. Upon review of all this, Billy realizes he’s a lot more fucked than previously thought. Steve may be just as hungry and unhinged as him. It sort of fits with everything he knows about Steve. He just hadn’t recognized his own mania staring back at him with pouty, cherry lips and puppy eyes. It’s like a missing puzzle piece clicks into place, like he hadn’t known he was without it. He startles back to life with Steve’s tongue darting in and out the gap of his lips, a mockery of them fucking. Billy snaps his teeth just to make Steve squeal. 

Steve rips his mouth away, actually wiggles a hand between them to touch the ache in his tongue. There’s no blood, but Steve glares up at him anyway. 

“What was that for?”

Ignoring Steve’s petulant whine, Billy growls right in Steve’s face, “You really wanna do this, huh? You think you can handle me?”

Steve rolls his eyes. 

“You came right to me hook, line, and sinker. What, you think I was a passive party in all this? Like I didn’t let you fuck me six ways to Sunday just now? Please.”

Steve scoffs again and smirks like this is funny. Billy wishes he were laughing instead of drowning as an anchor tugs his insides into the black abyss of his obsession. Steve just giggles under him, smile stretching wide in the face of Billy’s reckoning, and he smacks obnoxious kisses all over the alpha’s face. 

When Billy doesn’t fight or join him, Steve bumps their noses together and sighs, “So now that we understand each other, get your knot out of my ass and put aloe on me like you said you would. And be gentle, or I’ll make you regret it.”

Steve pecks another kiss on this stony mouth, head bobbing and licking gently until Billy kisses him back. He does so tentatively, too unmoored to tear Steve apart. Everything is just slightly out of step. Just a little off. He should panic, should flee this mad house, jump in his car, and never come back. But he knows full damn well, shoving Steve’s tongue back in his mouth only to claim him, that he’ll show up here Friday to take Steve out. And then after maybe the world will right itself like waking from a dream. Billy already knows he doesn’t want to wake up. So he just kisses Steve that much harder, that much sweeter until the omega moans with him. He’ll never wake up from this fever dream of madness. Not if he can help it. 


End file.
